he’s rich and bored
tired of staring out windows that can so easily be broken
damage is his drug and drugs are his religion
which is why he finds his house of worship in broken homes
homes of middle aged men who have realized there’s not much left to do
and taste epiphany in divorce papers

    strangers to grime
we live in empty castles
where we piss down pristine corridors

he’s bored with all the things he has that other people need
i’m tired of all the love i get from people that don’t know me
so we trade love for obsession
and satisfaction for a high
whether it’s a high on hope or just high hopes i still don’t know
but we both agreed that the future starts slow
for idle shits like us

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